water-bottle.

"What are you filling your water-bottle for?" I asked.

"We have got orders to parade at 2 o'clock, to move off."

"Good Lord! Who told you that?"

"Captain Wilkie, sir. The orders have just come down."

I never had such a scramble in my life. With an appetite oversatisfied
with apples; my kit spread all over the floor; my company half a mile
away in all sorts of holes and corners--to move out of the village in
twenty minutes.

It's the same old thing in the army; you say to yourself it can't be
done; but it is done. And at five minutes past two the whole brigade
was moving out of Corbie, and was once more facing towards the Somme.

Our destination was in Death Valley; but before going into the line we
rested a few days in Happy Valley. Happy Valley and Death
Valley--there is a touch of sarcasm about the names, but they are,
nevertheless, very appropriate.

Happy Valley is a peaceful spot where we would sit contentedly in the
afternoon puffing at our pipes, listening to the sound of the guns;
watching the shrapnel bursting in the air some two or three miles
away, and thanking our lucky stars that we were watching it from a
distance. But we were resting. It was a lull before the storm, and we
were soon to march towards the storm.

Death Valley was three miles away, and to-morrow the storm would break
upon us! We were thinking; men everywhere were writing. Why were they
biting their pencils and thinking so hard? The padre was a busy man.
Everything was so quiet and mysterious: there was no joking, no
laughing, men were thoughtful and pulled hard at their pipes.
To-morrow the storm would break! To-morrow! And what after?

The following afternoon, after struggling across a sea of shell-holes,
we arrived at Death Valley and halted by Trones Wood. Here hundreds of
our guns of all sizes were massed, wheel to wheel, and row upon row;
and every gun was being worked as hard as possible.

A bombardment was taking place. And in the midst of all these guns we
were halted for two hours until our trenches could be located. The
sight was wonderful. It was impressive. The might of Britain was
massed and belching forth its concentrated fury.

As darkness came on the roar of the guns was accentuated by the flash
of the discharge. We did not speak, for speaking was out of the
question; the noise was too terrific; and we lay on the ground
silenced by wonder and bewilderment.

What was happening over yonder wh